Lune Dans le Ciel
by paige morgan
Summary: The story of Sesshoumaru's mother and Inutaisho. Drabble-ish.


**Hey all! I wrote this really as just a drabble, not sure if I'm going to continue it or not. It is basically just about the relationship between Sesshoumaru's mother Asuna and Inutaisho. It starts out kind of dark, but in my head (if I continue) it gets a bit lighter.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha.**

**Enjoy!**

**Chapter One**

I couldn't sleep again, not with the uncomfortable heat of his body surrounding me. He nuzzled into my hair, right behind my ear, and despite myself I shivered. It was another dark and sleepless night, blazing beneath the covers, yearning for freedom and some sort of self-respect. But what could I do? I was nothing but a female dog demon, used by my race for one thing and one thing alone. The complete and utter satisfaction of the male dog demons. Either used as whores, as barter, or simply as breeders, the women of my race had an unlucky lot in this world. I, however, had gotten lucky, though I could hardly see it that way. At the juvenile age of merely fifteen I was given to the son of a very powerful demon lord. I begged my father on my hands and knees to spare me this burden, to allow me to continue living within the comfortable and safe walls of the palace.

He barely spared me a glance as they hauled me away. After three days of travel, and one long night of being bathed, oiled, made up, and having my snowy hair pinned painfully and elaborately around my head, I had become the property of a man ten years my senior. To say the least, he frightened me. He was broad and tall, and his shadow was dark and long. The night they gave me to him was a ceremony celebrating his ascent to the throne and I was somewhat of a present. He sat like a god upon his great throne next to his expressionless wife and regarded me as his servants presented me in front of the entire party. I could feel their eyes on me and shame swept over me like a cold bucket of regret.

"We are pleased," one man said, sounding far too smug for my liking, "to present you with the Princess Asuna. She has traveled far from the eastern border to join your harem, sir."

A harem? I was shocked when he said that. The whole time I had been under the impression that we were to be wed. Icy realization captured me as I contemplated what it is I was meant to do. Not only did I know it, but everyone in the room did. Their expressions swept from pity to disgust, envy and indifference. I wanted to draw my arms around my perfectly cleaned and dressed body, shrink back into myself where I still lived in the palace and played with the other children and pestered the servants day and night. Someone cleared a throat behind me and I jumped, recognizing that I was meant to speak.

My voice was stuck, and the eyes of the guests burned me with their impatience. "It is an honor to serve you, my lord," I said, my voice alien to my ears.

I finally gathered the courage to look in his eyes, although I wish that I hadn't. They were lit with an emotion that I hadn't known, back then. Too young to understand the complexities of sex and desire, I had seen it as something else entirely, though I can't recall now what I had believed it to be. His eyes had ravaged over my face, my hair, my pale and slender arms. They finally settled on my eyes, as green and bright as the forest at midday. I can see now that he was so full of lust for me, so struck by my delicate beauty that it must have been very hard for him to hold off as long as he did.

I feared for myself that night, and for many after, but he didn't touch me for years. Some speculated that I was either too young for his taste, or too scrawny. And it was true, I had been a tiny little thing. Not prone to eating a lot, I was wispy thin and pale as the moon. My breasts and hips took their time developing, a fact I am grateful for. Next to his wife, an exotic woman with dark wavy hair, voluptuous lips, and olive skin, I must have seemed a ghost. But things are different now. He only has eyes for me.

He told me once, one night much like this, that I was his moon. Pale and lonely, unreachable in my dark starry sky, yet so desirable. That night I understood. What he wanted from me was not just my body; he wanted my love as well, whether he loved me or not. Inutaisho was known for that, forcing affection and love from people. His servants, his soldiers, his entire dominion spent their days pretending when I knew they really feared him. And who wouldn't? He was a mighty warrior, and his lands were vast and wealthy. His military was well trained and larger than most of the other clans.

But for me, it wasn't these things that inspired my fear. It was his clawed hands, wandering eyes, fanged smile, the knot of his hakama. I stared at that knot warily for such a long time, picturing so clearly the day he would enter my room, loosen the knot until his pants slipped from his hips, revealing a fate so cruel and worthless it made me sick.

But as I mentioned, he waited a long time. I became close friends with the other girls and women of the harem, and they taught me things, things I didn't really care to know. Like how to please a man, or how to fake your own pleasure. It embarrassed me deeply when they spoke to me of these things, but they said that as the lord's favorite girl I would need to know. I didn't want to be his favorite girl. I wanted to be nothing, to float away into nonexistence. I wanted to be the moon, so high in the sky that even he couldn't touch me. But these things I was not, and as the seasons passed I finally began to fill out. My hair grew long and shiny, my legs smooth and lean, my hips wider and more suitable for child bearing. Although I still never grew any breasts to really speak of in my opinion, I had grown into a woman.

And to my surprise, he threw me a party one night during the summer of my eighteenth birthday. For three years I had avoided his touch and avoided his company, but that night the whole palace was all white lanterns and light purple silk. I was given the most painfully beautiful kimono you could imagine, and soaked in lily scented water for an hour. When I arrived at the gathering, all my friends from the harem and the servant's quarters and the stables were there. Some wore masks of sorrow while others tried to encourage me with proud smiles. I caught many an appraising eye, for I was a vision in a pure white kimono with lavender birds splashed across it, and a dark blue obi. My hands shook as I approached Inutaisho, who was smiling at me calmly, knowingly. He kissed my cheek, the first contact we had ever had, and my pulse raced.

_Please, oh please, somebody help me,_ I begged in my mind, as he led me to the head of the table that was practically exploding with food. The touch of his large tanned hand on mine was like the scorch of the summer sun to a wilting flower. He sat at the very head with me on his left, his wife on the right, and a room full of nobles who all looked appropriately enthused that it was the anniversary of my birth, while I couldn't be cursing it more.

I ate as much as I could stomach, received the most fabulous and expensive gifts I could have ever asked for, and in a whirlwind of movement and sound I was undressed, hair taken down, make up removed, bathed all over again, and then dressed again in a thin white yukata. My friend Yumi escorted me to his chambers, just across the hall from his wife's. She gave me a hug and then she walked away. I wanted to scream for her to come back, to beg her to take me with her, but my time had run out.

Before I could knock on the door, a servant let me in, and with a bow he left.

And then I was alone in the room with Inutaisho. His back was to me as he gazed out the window at the moon, something I realize now that he has a fixation with.

"I hope you enjoyed the celebration, Asuna," he said, my name dripping from his lips like melted butter.

I couldn't speak. Fear had seized me so powerfully and so absolutely that I was almost certain I wouldn't be able to manage another word for the rest of the night. He turned to face me, handsome even then in the candlelight. He was tall, towering over my small frame. His shoulders were broad and his skin tanned. He had muscles from years of battlefields and training grounds, and he smelled woodsy and green. His hair, the same color as mine and just as long, was tied into a high ponytail, exposing his face. His face was possibly the most beautiful and most frightening thing about him, for the expression he wore always spoke superiority and dominance. He smirked at me a little as my eyes traced the startling marks on his cheeks and forehead and landed in the golden fury of his eyes.

He laughed then, a short and almost humorless sound. "You charm me with your innocence, princess. Your naivety is very refreshing."

I bristled a little at his comment. Living in a harem for the last three years was a quick way to rob you of any naivety, and I felt that it was foolish for him to make that assumption. Of course, I had never been with a man, and I still didn't fully understand sex at that point. Not like I would afterwards.

"You seem frightened," he stated, flopping down into a chair and folding his hands in his lap. "Which I have to admit, confuses me a bit. This night will hold nothing but pleasure for you, I assure you." His deep voice rumbled the words lazily, like a purr.

I flushed red and dropped my eyes to the plush carpet beneath my toes. When I looked back up he was right in front of me and I struggled to suppress a scream. His clawed hand reached out and slid through the strands of my hair, a gesture that was meant to comfort but one that only served to frighten me more. I didn't want this, any of this. I was content to live out the rest of the days with the girls from the harem, untouched, unspoiled. I didn't want his fangs on my lips, his claws on my newly developed hips and breasts, his body heavily resting above mine as he tortured and humiliated me.

"Don't," I murmured, pausing him.

"Excuse me, princess?" he said, his voice a steel challenge to my resolve.

"Please…" I groaned, as he ran his claws through my hair again.

He laughed. "I'm not used to women begging me to stop. More often than not, they are begging for more." He seemed genuinely amused at my fear, and I recoiled from his touch.

"I don't want this, my lord," I whispered desperately, searching for a way out although I knew I was dangerously close to upsetting him.

"I'm not so sure that you even know what this is," he replied in a voice rough with desire. My purity, my chastity had always been the greatest appeal to him.

He pulled me to him then, and an endless storm began raging. His mouth was hot on mine, unpleasant and unwelcome at first. Soon though his teeth were gently pulling on my lips, his tongue was sliding over mine, and I was groaning despite my fear and my unwillingness. It made me despise him all the more, the fact that it felt so good to be touched that way. His hands were so big and rough against my pale moon-colored skin. They lifted me up by my hips, cupping my bottom through the thin material of my yukata. He laid me on the bed, my hair all around me like a silver pool.

My heart was still racing, but he had set a fire in me that was burning for his touch. I swallowed shame and trepidation as I trembled beneath him wantonly. I was another woman now, a woman I barely knew. His lips found my throat and I felt my body arch beneath him, causing our bellies to brush together suggestively and he growled into my neck. That noise caused another wave of fear and desire rushing over me, a potent aphrodisiac. His teeth lightly scraped behind my ear, and I spoke his name like a promise, even as I hated myself for it.

He chuckled darkly in my ear and purred, "Say it again."

And I couldn't refuse. His hand had slid between the folds of my yukata and was sliding across the flat plane of my belly, spreading wildfire as it went. I obliged him again and again until the word barely held any meaning anymore. He was far too good at teasing me. His claws, the claws I had feared so greatly, traced over my belly lower and lower, only to head upwards again in a frustrating battle. I was gasping and writhing beneath him, and he watched me with the most amused expression on his face.

"Your reactions are so lovely to witness, my dear," he murmured as he spread apart my clothing and placed an open mouthed kiss just beneath my belly button. I tossed my head back, warmth spreading between my legs even as my heart squeezed painfully with betrayal. His tongue was so warm and wet, and he lazily licked my belly, my hip bones, my ribcage. It wasn't until he shed my robe completely that I finally came back to myself.

I reached for the blankets on the bed to cover myself, but he caught my wrists.

"Please don't look at me," I begged, my voice sounding so close to a sob it was pathetic. He stared into my eyes for an agonizingly long moment before devouring my body in the heat of his gaze.

He could see all of me bared before him: pale skin, dips and curves, the pale pink tips of my breasts. I crossed my legs, attempting to conceal my most private and sacred of places from him. He spread them easily with his huge hand. It rested on my thigh, tempting me, as he stared at me.

I had tears in my eyes when he looked back up. "You are so very mouth watering," he said, his voice taking on an unfamiliar timbre. His eyes looked strange to me then, the edges bleeding red a little as his demonic instincts began to take control. He blinked it away, and then his fingers found me.

I had a lump in my throat, but it didn't stop the disgusting and humiliating noise that escaped me as his fingers slid between my legs and into my womanhood. I was surprised that there was no pain, only intense pleasure that made me sweat and made my eyes roll back. I was utterly ashamed of myself, not just allowing this to happen but actually indulging it. He was watching me with lazy golden eyes as he pleasured me, a steady rhythm of in and out that left me speechless. He was immensely enjoying the fact that despite my unwillingness to bed him, I was panting with lust for him then.

He lifted his fingers to his lips, and his tongue slid out to taste me. I cringed as I watched this, flushing red. This seemed to intoxicate him more than ever, and he looked as though it was becoming hard for him to hold back any longer. However, he managed somehow. His hands slid over my breasts, the first time a man had ever touched them, and I arched again, needing his touch. His tongue found them and I was nearly undone, ready to cast away all my self-respect and dignity and give into the dark seduction he offered me.

He was getting rougher though as his desire for me grew and grew. He shoved my thighs apart and I experienced the most exquisite pleasure there when his tongue found me. I cried out then, a loud and abrupt sound that drove him wild with excitement. My hands were gripping the covers on his bed, my eyes half lidded and lips parted as he worked an unexplainably good magic between my legs. I was trying so very hard to remain myself, to hold some of my sanity in place but it was so hard with the aching that had filled my body. Something was coming closer and closer, until it was almost painful to bear and then I came. It was the most amazing feeling that I truly did give into him then, although I loathed to.

I felt a bead of hatred for him form in my heart as he slid off the bed and undressed. Even as my eyes roamed curiously over his perfect body, all covered in battle scars, I resolved to fight next time. To escape no matter what it took. To simply refuse to see him. He would have to drag me there himself. But for tonight my energy to fight him had been spent, and when he finally stood naked before me I felt nothing but pure unadulterated lust for him. I wanted more of those good feelings.

I had heard that all dog demons took their women from behind the first time, as accustomed. He didn't, however. He slid between my thighs which were trembling with need. When I felt him brush against me I bit my lip and gazed at him with absolute desire. His eyes were bleeding with red again as he tried so hard to restrain himself. I suppose he was trying to be gentle, entering me that way. It would have been a sweet gesture, despite the fact that he was taking me against my wishes. Well, my immediate wishes had been for him to take me, but it wasn't my fault. He was too good at pleasing me.

He pushed into me, and I surprised him by lifting my hips to meet his. He was barely himself now, his fangs running long from his mouth, clawed hands gripping my hips roughly, the red glow of his eyes almost complete. He thrust in, and there was pain. I squeezed my eyes shut as my purity was taken away, my childhood, my innocence. Tomorrow everyone would know what had been done and know that he had made me his. I flushed once again with disgust for myself, but the pleasure that shot through me on his second thrust banished all things from my head.

He took me that way as long as his demon side would allow, and I cried out then without any shame or guilt. He growled into my ear and I found myself growling back as my own instincts took over. Every thrust hit a sweet spot in me that felt better than his fingers, better than his tongue. After a few agonizingly blissful moments he flipped me over on my stomach, taking me in the traditional way of the dog demon. At first it was painful, and he felt too large to enter me that way, but he was far from gone then. He fucked me harder and harder, holding my thighs apart with clawed fingers. His breath was hot on my neck as he absolutely drilled me with pleasure and corruption.

I moaned with every thrust, loving it. Loving the way my breasts bounced, the way his fingers gripping my pale skin felt. He lifted my hips some, hitting an angle that made sparks fly behind my closed eyelids. I opened my eyes momentarily and saw us in the mirror across the room. I shut them again, this time tighter. He was growling louder and louder and the vibrations from it made me tremble. I came again and again and again, yet he was relentless. Finally he turned my chin, exposing my neck to him. It was a symbol of submission. As he came he sank his fangs into my neck, marking me as his woman forever. I felt something hot and sticky fill me and it pushed me over the edge one last time.

After a long moment of panting and sweating he pulled out of me. He took with him all my desire and lust and it was replaced with cold reproach for myself. We collapsed side by side as he demonic energy subsided.

I expected him to order me away after having been satisfied with me for the night, but I wasn't so lucky. He held me in his scorching embrace the whole night, his arms tight and possessive around me. After the whirlwind of sex was over and my body calmed, I cried softly to myself. My feelings of shame, hatred, disgust all came back to me. I was so guilty of my actions, of my moans, of the way I had said his name. I was ashamed of his heavy arm around my middle now, bare skin touching bare skin.

I want to say that morning eventually came, but from that moment on I was cast into eternal night, forced to endure an endless routine of pleasure and shame. He bedded me so often that I grew sore and tired from lack of sleep, and my once friends in the harem became jealous of the attention. What I wouldn't have given to switch places with them.

Inutaisho taught me things that even the harem girls didn't know. Mostly he taught me shame and guilt, feelings that were hard to temper as we lay in the bed together afterwards, loins still pulsing with the force of our rutting. He knew how it pained me to lay with him, how I loathed myself every time I came for him. I think it merely amused him, how hard I fought against my own desire. For once I tasted sex, I craved it always. He could smell the arousal, the heat, on me whenever he was near. We would be together in the same room, the library or such, and a whiff of my scent would reach him. Most of the time he didn't even have the decency to take me to his room. He would order the servants away and fuck me right there in the library or in the garden or by the stables. He had taken to following me during the day, attempting conversation. Outside of the bedroom, though, I had little to say to him. He enjoyed irritating me all too much.

I hated how he flaunted our relationship. At the dinner table, while everyone was simply talking and trying to enjoy themselves he would excuse himself, give me a meaningful look, and leave. His wife would stare at me coldly and the rest of the table awkwardly. I would excuse myself as well, and silently leave the room. Halfway to his room he would ambush me and fuck me against the wall. As much as I hated it all, I loved it too. I'd never been so satisfied before in my life. I tried to deny that I liked his touch but he proved me wrong night after night. I tried to deny that I found him attractive, but just the sight of him could set me off sometimes.

I began practicing with a sword. One day, in the middle of training, he walked in on my session. He told the swordsman to leave and challenged me, still a novice, to a duel. I was already weak, but the sight of his strong arms clasping his sword, the intensity of his gaze, the rise and fall of his chest, it reminded me of sex. One sniff of that smell, the smell of arousal and we were fucking again, me bent over the weapons rack and him behind me. I could barely contain my screams, so as not to alert anyone of what we were doing.

I tried to busy myself, to find a way to escape him, but as the season wore on I could see it in his eyes: he was becoming totally captivated by me. When I read in the gardens he would lean against the fountain and watch me, his eyes almost frustrated with emotion. That is when he began to crave my love. He had already conquered my body in every way, it was his through and through no matter what I said. He wanted now to make me love him as well, even if I myself didn't want to.

He showered me with gifts, but they were meaningless to me. I needed little and wanted even less. He continued to follow me, to talk to me. He told me stories, asked for my opinion on noble dealings, stole sweet kisses from me as he taught me how to use the bow and arrow. Despite myself, despite everything, I began to enjoy his company. I began to laugh at his jokes. I began to seek him out, too. And it killed me. He was manipulating me, wanting nothing more than to control and own me. He didn't really care about who I was, how I felt. That was obvious in the way he took me for his own, without my say in the matter.

Something about me was driving him mad. He needed more than just my body, but I had already given him that. Wasn't it enough? Wasn't it enough that he took my virginity? Wasn't it enough that I moaned his name over and over, thrust after thrust? Or that I endured that stares of the people of the palace, who gossiped about our strange relationship, his infatuation with me?

One night, I found myself tip toeing to his room. Each step, I cursed myself. Why was I betraying myself this way, allowing him to control me like this? I reached his door and rose my hand to knock when I heard moans coming from inside. I stilled, shocked, and listened harder. Panting, the sound of skin slapping skin, my lord's voice roughly growling something into someone else's ear. I ran from that place and found a way to absolutely avoid him for a fortnight.

He was practically dying with need by the time he cornered me. I was short with him, although I knew that I shouldn't be anything but indifferent. Why did it matter to me who he fucked? I wasn't his wife, I didn't control him. Just because he hadn't had another woman for two whole seasons didn't mean that we were exclusive. Well, I had no other choice but to be exclusive to him. It angered me, how concerned I really was, how I had wept that night until sleep had claimed me.

He tried to kiss me, but I slapped him, an action I deeply regret. The anger in his eyes had been enough to burn my very skin, but it was the returning slap that really stung. It had enough force to knock me to the ground, and I took a stack of books down with me. He stood, breathing heavily over me, murder in his eyes as I pulled myself up from the floor. "What the fuck do you think you are doing, Asuna?" he bellowed, shaking the room.

My voice was small, although I'd planned for it to be strong and aggressive.

"I…I know you had sex with someone," I said, sounding horribly immature to my own ears. I was fifteen again, standing before a crowd of judgmental nobles.

He didn't say anything, waiting for me to elaborate. He had an entire harem of girls, plus a wife. It wasn't exactly unusual for him to mess with them, too. My jealously stung me bitterly as I searched for words. Not wanting to admit my feelings for him, but to angry to bed him again I started crying, which seemed to horrify him beyond belief.

After all he had put me through, all we had done together, I had never once cried. I leaned against the table, my white hair now falling loose from its messy bun, my kimono falling off one shoulder. He stood there, shocked as I slowly sank back to the ground and cried into my palms, soaking them with envy. I felt so angry and possessive over him, despite the fact that all I was to him was a warm pair of legs.

He was so astonished that he quietly left, leaving me there to weep over the mixed up jumble of emotions I now felt for him. I still hated him, but I was now also jealous over him and lonely without him. He stopped following me for some time, and rumors floated around the palace that he had finally begun bedding other women again. They smirked at me triumphantly one by one as they received a night in bed with Inutaisho, a pleasure I knew all too well. After moping for a few days I threw myself into training with the swordsman, and continued to self-teach the use of the bow and arrow. I went to the stables every day to ride my mare, Adina.

I was leaning over a small table, listening to the stable boy tell me stories of the village he grew up in. They were plains people, and the care of horses was everything to him. He knew everything about them. I was laughing at a particularly funny joke of his when Inutaisho stormed up and snatched me out of my seat by my arm.

"Hey!" I shouted as I struggled uselessly in his grasp.

He dragged me all the way to the waterfalls, deep in the forest before rounding on me. It began to rain as he screamed, "What the hell were you doing?!" It was so loud it echoed through the trees and birds took flight from branches.

"Huh?" I questioned.

"You have been spending every fucking waking moment with that fucking stable boy for two straight weeks! What the fuck are you two out there talking and laughing about? What could be so fucking amusing to you?" I stared at him, in shock as he seethed in front of me, his anger a palpable thing in the air. The rain was slowly soaking my hair and clothes.

"First of all, it's none of your business!" I shouted, which earned me the most murderous look I had ever seen. "Second of all, we were just talking! I have no interest in him at all, okay? We're just friends."

"The hell you are," he growled, advancing on me. "Whether you are interested in him or not, princess," he spat, "he sure is interested in you. I could smell it from inside the fucking palace. Stay away from him. You aren't allowed to have friends."

I recoiled like he'd slapped me. "Well I have to talk to someone, since you are ignoring me," I hissed.

"So you run to a fucking whelp like him?!" he screamed right in my face. I didn't flinch. I was too angry to even shout. "Is that who you are going to start fucking now, Asuna?!" he sneered my name. "You can't lie with me anymore so you run to the stable boy like some messed up whore?!"

I slapped him again, this time harder than ever before. Before he had a chance to strike me back, I slapped him again and again. "I am not a whore!" I screamed, loud enough the whole palace would have heard me if not for the rain. He had hit a sensitive spot with that, my feelings of guilt over giving myself to him washing over me, hurting me.

I was so upset, that one phrase was enough to leave me speechless. We stood staring at each other for some time. I felt so young, so inexperienced the way he was looking at me. Like I was some obsessed little puppy.

"I hate you," I whispered, my words venomous. "You have done nothing but manipulate and control me. You forced me to desire you and then forced me to love you. Now that you have completely broken me, you want nothing to do with me, but you don't want anyone else to have me either! Is that what happened to your wife, Inutaisho? Is that why she wanders through every day, silent and expressionless?"

He grabbed me then, his hands rough on my hips. "I never fucked her the way I fuck you, Asuna. Consider yourself lucky," and with that he crushed his lips to mine. And damn it all, I couldn't stop him. We fucked then and there, rougher than ever before and more passionate all the same. All the anger and jealousy was spent as our bodies moved. I climbed on top of him this time and rode him, feeling high with the power and being the dominant one. Of course it only lasted a while.

Our routine started up again, and once more I earned the jealous stares of the other concubines. We spent even more time together then, laying in grassy meadows talking and making love. We rode the horses together, sparred together, and I even began teaching him the ancient language of my people. The days were so endless, filled with everything and nothing and sex, sex, sex. Another month passed and I was just as captivated by Inutaisho as he was with me. He held a newfound respect for me, standing up to him. Slapping him, screaming at him…no one else could have gotten away with those things. They would have probably been killed. But I was his moon, and he was the sun.

And unbeknownst to me, we had created a star. One morning I threw up, feeling sicker than ever. Inutaisho came and stroked my back and kissed my neck with cool lips, an unbearably sweet gesture. A few more weeks and the doctors determined that I was pregnant with Inutaisho's child, and we decided to call him Sesshoumaru. I had laughed, wondering if it would be a boy or a girl, but somehow already knowing what it would be.

I was blissfully happy, a top a cloud of love and affection from Inutaisho, who was absolutely ecstatic. How stupid I was, to think that it could ever last.

**Okay all! Hope you enjoyed! I really dunno if I will continue this, I will probably do at least one more chapter to finish out the tragic tale of Inutaisho and Asuna. Review please!**

**paigemorgan!**


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